Devil In Your Heart
by Petals Open to the Moon
Summary: Vlad continues to support his people in their war against the Sultan, but rumors have been spreading, and not even Mirena can keep him safe... Based off the film, still in theaters.


*****SPOILER ALERT*** **

**This is one of my favorite scenes in the film. A little of unleashed Vlad is excellent, once in a while, and Luke Evans played this part out to perfection. I was literally terrified myself, watching him, and I was just sitting in a freakin' theater!**

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><p>The morning dawned hot and bright in the mountains, and the citizens of the monastery were hard at work. They did not have even a week before the Turks arrived, and the Castle of their Prince, Vlad Tepes, was a smoldering wreckage of wood and charred stone. But they were a hardy people, and led by their Prince, they surely would not fail.<p>

A Prince whom, it seemed, had acquired strange powers after his mysterious absence. He had disappeared hours before the cannon fire began, and no one except his closest advisors knew he had been to the mountain. That was the extent of _their _knowledge, however. They knew not of the dark exchange that had taken refuge in Vlad's soul. This frightening power had first been unleashed when Castle Dracula lay under attack, in the coldest, blackest hour of the night. They saw him come, and they saw him leave. He disappeared into the smoke of the rubble, straight towards an oncoming legion of Turkish soldiers.

"He flees to his death!" Cazan had cried, a long-time advisor and friend of the Prince. He turned, limping on his cane towards a stunned Dumitru and the other counselors. "Well? Why do you stand there, with gaping mouths?! Go after him!"

They had, indeed, but as they left the gates, the roaring of the cannons had already ceased. The soldiers no longer cried out in supposed victory. Embers cracked in the air, giving little light to the heavy fog. And then... the wonder of all strange wonders… he came. Their Prince came from the field, clutching a heavy _kilij _in his hand, soaked grime and Turkish blood.

They could not believe it. But he asked them not to question him, and they obeyed. The rest of the night was an amalgamation of gathering the people and those wounded, distributing bundles, and weary, soot-blackened faces. They had reached the monastery after what seemed an eternity, but the monks within were only too happy to receive them. Prince Vlad retired with his family, and nothing more was said of the matter.

Until now.

Vlad could feel the stares boring into his back as he walked amongst them. He imagined them talking about him, what they would say. It angered him, but also deeply concerned him. He could not afford a rebellion. Not now, when their lives and country were at stake. He walked silently, only stopping to question one of the monks.

"Where is the armory?" he asked.

The brother pointed it out kindly, and Vlad was relieved that the rumors had not yet reached everyone. He walked in the direction indicated. For a man of his strength and brisk stride, it should have taken a mere five minutes. But Vlad was no longer a man, and the sunlight beat down fiercely on the cobblestones and rooftops. He moved at a painfully slow pace, creeping around the pools of golden light. Once, a small child ran through the alleyway, nearly knocking him back to his death. He snarled in frustration at his predicament. _Damn it! _

Once he reached the dark wall alongside the armory, he was free to walk faster. He lifted his head, and his eyes met that of his friend and confidante, Brother Lucian. He paused, fully aware of how he looked, crawling in the dark like an insect. He nodded stiffly to the monk, who gave a nod in return. He continued on his way, entering the armory with a sigh of relief. The men laboring there paused their work respectfully, watching him.

"Continue, by all means," Vlad said softly. He walked among them as they hammered metal, welded poleaxes, and carefully strung the crossbows that had been used by his ancestors. Vlad peered through the rough cloth that sheltered the tent's structure, looking for Lucian. The monk was nowhere to be found.

"Show me where the remaining _kilij _are kept," he ordered one of the men. Scarcely had he taken a step to follow, then the flap of the tent opened, briefly flashing light. The silhouette of Brother Lucian stood alone. Vlad swore quietly, motioning the laborer away. He crept towards the darkest part of the tent, standing with his hands at his sides, feet apart.

"The vampire has an enmity to daylight, my lord," the monk said carefully. As Vlad opened his lips, Lucian withdrew a long sword from his holy robes. "… and to pure silver."

Vlad exhaled once. His friend edged along the wall, not once lifting his eyes from him. "And yet… the Holy Cross exerts no power over you. That can only mean you've yet to seal your fate with _human blood." _

"Lucian," Vlad whispered.

The latter raised his sword. "Let me kill you now, my Prince," he pleaded. "Please. Before your people do. Rumor has spread of what you have become. You can still repent…"

Vlad narrowed his eyes, the iris darkening. "You'd do well to run, Lucian."

A heartbeat of a second, and Lucian's sword arm lashed out. Not towards the Prince, but upwards, slashing open the cloth of the tent and letting in the light. Vlad screamed, arching backwards with both hands over his face. The working men cried out at the horrific sight, running outside with the Lucian. Vlad stumbled towards the light, hands grasping, trying to grab something, anything to blot it out… but he could not see! He could not see-!

Pandemonium spread outside of the tent. The noise brought Vlad's wife to the door of her room, woken from an exhausted sleep. Ingeras hovered behind her, both of them looking on the scene in horror. By this time, Vlad was no longer visible, cowering in pain among unfinished weapons and broken wood. But the crowd had already glimpsed the monster. Their worst fears were realized. Their Prince was, in truth, a Demon. A ghost of the worst kind, a son of Satan.

"I saw the Devil inside him!" screamed one man hysterically. The rest of the crowd scrambled about, some bearing torches and others sticks of kindle that were quickly lit to flame…

Mirena's face turned white. "Please!" she cried out to them. "In the name of God, _listen!_ He is your Prince! He has earned the chance to explain!" Her voice was almost inaudible over the screams and shouting of the crowd. "Stop!" she begged, running out into the clearing, only to be shoved back with Ingeras. "Stop! _Please!"_

The torches were flung into the armory tent. Children threw stones as women reached out, begging them not to "look upon the Evil One." The red flames rose higher and higher, greedily devouring the wood it was offered. Bloodcurdling screams rose from within, echoing over the roar of the gathered citizens.

"Stop it!" Mirena was screaming herself. "He was only trying to _save _you all!"

Darkness fell over them suddenly, and she turned with a soft gasp. The smoke from the fire had blotted out the sun, choking its light in a whorl of darkness. An inhuman cry of pain and rage silenced the crowd, striking terror in Mirena's heart. Taking Ingeras' hand, she darted through the people to her maidservant, Ylenia, giving him over to her.

"Take him to my room and shut the door!" she whispered hurriedly. "Do not let him look outside!"

"Mama!" he cried, clinging to her.

"Go now!"

The maid took Ingeras, numb with fear. She dragged him up the steps, but could not bring him further than the door. He wrenched away from her, clinging to the bars of the railing. Where was his father? What had happened? What was it Mama did not want him to see?

Mirena was unaware of her son's disobedience. She stood among her people, watching the embers fly into the air. Smoke billowed heavily. She watched with the crowd as her husband miraculously appeared among the crumbling rafters. But... oh, dear God... it seemed like no miracle. His hair and clothes were covered in ash and char from the flames licking at him. His face looked like that of a risen corpse, rising up from a grave of flame to curse whomever had put him there.

_God help him, _she thought. Her hands shook by her sides.

Vlad walked down the line of his frightened subjects, his eyes blazing with a hellish light.

"This is your loyalty?!" he spat. "Your _gratitude?! _ Fools. You think you are alive because you can _fight?!" _He whirled around, wrenching a beam violently from the burning structure. He thrust it out before him, the point sharp and jagged. _"You are alive because of ME!" _he roared. _"Because of what I did to SAVE you!" _

The people trembled, terrified into complete silence. Only Mirena moved, walking slowly but surely to her husband. He looked down at her as she approached, his eyes wild. Her hand rested gently over his heart.

"This is not who you are," she whispered.

He stared into her moist eyes, cold realization rushing into his mind. He surveyed the wreckage and his people, a growing shame and fear overcoming him. Then his eyes met his son's, watching fearfully with Ylenia, and his heart sank within him. He tossed the beam to the ground, unsteady on his feet.

"Return to your stations," he said hoarsely. He did not look at Mirena again, but strode quickly from the site, the crowd parting to let him through.

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><p><em><strong>kilij - a curved sword resembling a scimitar <strong>_


End file.
